


Worlds

by orphan_account



Series: Worlds [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: But not really a songfic?, In which Alfred and Arthur are absolute BAKAS who don't know how to be HONEST, Inspired by Music, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Romance, Some Humor, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We're not that different, you know.<br/>I play among the stars and then fall so low<br/>I try to make sense as I go<br/>'cause nothing is in your soul<br/>-<br/>“If you really wish to close the gap between the both of you, why do you not try? Why do you instead decide to avoid the matter altogether?” <br/>“Because, Francis, he pierces my soul. I am half agony, half hope.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worlds

**Author's Note:**

> If I can direct your attention to THIS SONG HERE: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ULqdjtDI-bs   
> Yes, I need to say that this fic was inspired largely by this song, Worlds Apart by Seven Lions ft. Kerli!  
> This was posted on my tumblr as well at tartetan, do take a look!

 

i. Worlds Apart

“No matter how much I keep trying to communicate, I never seem to be able to reach him.” Arthur looks out the window, his eyes softening as he catches the first few drops of rain on his window pane.

  
“Maybe it’s because you don’t listen to him enough,  _rosbif_?” Upon hearing Francis insult him, Arthur turns back and glares at the Frenchman, crossing his arms.  
  
“I’m trying, frog. You make it sound so easy, but it’s not,” The English avatar narrows his eyes at his companion, who returns his glare in challenge. Deciding that maintaining the toxic stare required too much effort, he turned his head back to the window; watching the rain blanket his beloved capital. 

“It’s like we’re worlds apart, and we’re not getting any closer,” Lifting up a skinny finger, Arthur traces down the window, following a raindrop down a glass pane.

“... _Angleterre,_ ” Francis begins, realising that the Briton failed to return his insult with the usual bite. “If you really wish to close the gap between the both of you, why do you not try? Why do you instead decide to avoid the matter altogether?” 

Arthur tosses his head back and laughs, but the bitter twist in his eyes suggests otherwise.  
  
“Because, Francis, he pierces my soul. I am half agony, half hope.” 

Francis rolls his eyes and purses his lips at Arthur, before he opens his mouth to speak.

“ _Angleterre_ , I know it is hard for you to hold on to, how do you say, unrequited  _l’amour_ , but is it really smart to let it hurt you?” The Frenchman leans over and prods him in the temple, earning a cry of protest from the English avatar. 

“Are you telling me to give up on him, frog?” Francis quickly shrugs.

“I am not implying anything,  _rosbif_. But maybe it is time for  _Amérique_ to decide the best course of action,  _non_?” Arthur stares at him for a moment, before looking out the window again.

“...I’m tired, Francis. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.” Emerald-green eyes close, and the blond head leans against the headrest.   
  
“...Well, as they say, if you love something, let it go. But if it comes back, it’s yours to keep,  _non_?” Francis’ gaze shifts from the other avatar to the gloomy scene outside Arthur’s window.

“...And what if he doesn’t come back?”  
  
“ _L’amour_  works in mysterious ways,  _Angleterre_. Think about it if it actually happens,  _oui_?” Arthur chuckled, shaking his head as he opens his eyes again.

The Frenchman could only watch as the Brit smiles oddly to himself, although the crease of his lips never reaches his eyes.

* * *

 

The World Conference begins as per normal, with the national personifications attempting to relieve their boredom as another country tries to capture their attention; reading off his notes and gazing around the room expectantly.

Alfred absentmindedly scribbles on his notepad, his teeth working on a bite of the hamburger he holds in his other hand. He looks up as someone clears their throat, and his gaze shifts over to the Briton next to him.

His heart catches in his throat, and his mood lifts immediately.

Deciding that the meeting was far too boring for his liking, Alfred pokes the sleepy Brit out of his daydream, causing him to nearly drop his steaming hot teacup.  
  
“Wh-?! Alfred, you bloody hoser, you nearly gave me a first-degree burn!” Arthur exclaimed in a hushed voice, setting the porcelain cup on its saucer.   
  
“Hey, ain’t my fault ya like drinking that gross leaf water so much!” The American laughs boisterously, ignoring the glances the other nations gave him.  
  
“Shh!  _Shh!_  You’re being too loud, you blithering idiot!” Arthur sends nervous smiles of apologies back at the nations, gesturing for them to continue listening.  
  
“Nonsense! I’m not  _that_  loud!” Alfred laughs and slaps Arthur’s back once more, causing the Briton to wince in pain. Arthur curses and rubs at his back, his body tilting away from the American as he tries to recover from the stinging pain.

“Anyway dude, y’wanna go to a restaurant after this or somethin’?” The American avatar looks at him expectantly, knowing very well that the grumpy personification would never turn him down, no matter how many excuses he gave. 

As Alfred continued to grin at him, Arthur stared at him for a moment and hesitated, before his mind wandered to the conversation he had with Francis earlier that week.  
  
“No, Alfred.” 

The smile on his face drops, and he stares at the Brit as if he had grown a second head.

* * *

 

“And he just says ‘no’, just like that!” The violet eyed Canadian sighs as he taps away at his iPhone screen, replying to the emails that flooded his inbox. As his brother continues to rant about the English avatar, Matthew sets his phone down in irritation, taking a deep breath. Once calm enough, he looks at Alfred.  
  
“Maybe he’s tired of saying yes to all your shit, Alfred.” Said American snorts and rolls his eyes, laying down on the soft plush mattress of the one of the twin beds in their shared room.   
  
“Wow. Real encouraging, Mattie.” Matthew smirks and shrugs, resting his hands behind his head on the armchair.  
  
“I try.”

Alfred groans and grabs a pillow, shoving it onto his own face.   
  
“Damn it, this is the beginning of the end...” Matthew raises a brow at his brother, confused by his comment.  
  
“What do you mean by that?”  
  
Alfred then pushes the pillow off his face and stares up at the ceiling, his brow creasing with worry.  
  
“It’s always been like this, Matt... Like, even if Arthur’s sitting next to me, it feels like we’re so far away!” Alfred says, “And now he’s even rejecting my offers to hang out! Arthur  _never_  rejects me!”   
  
“It hurts, Mattie. It hurts to feel this far, like a million miles away from him.” Silence fills the room for a moment, before the Canadian speaks up.  
  
“...So you love him?” Alfred closes his eyes and sighs, deciding it was high time he acknowledged the fact.  
  
“...Yeah. I know it’s a shocker, Matt, but it was hard for me to come into terms with my feelings.” 

And suddenly, Matthew chuckles.  
  
Alfred sits up and glares at him, his face red as he throws the pillow at his twin.  
  
“What the fuck are  _you_  laughing at?!” The Canadian avatar grins and catches the pillow, pulling it aside.  
  
“Alfred, _everybody knows_ you love him!” He stands up and tosses the pillow back at Alfred, before sitting down next to him on the bed. “I’m glad you finally figured it out yourself!”  
  
Alfred blushes hard and glares down at the pillow in his arms, his glasses slightly askew from being hit by the pillow.  
  
“So what are you going to do about it now?” Matthew asks, looking expectantly at his twin. Alfred’s frown fades as he stares at the cream carpet, uncharacteristically silent.   
  
“...What do you suggest I do?” The Canadian looks over to his brother and smiles mischievously. 

**Author's Note:**

> COOKIES TO WHOEVER GETS THE LITERATURE REFERENCE I PUT IN THIS!!!!


End file.
